


Turn on the dark

by keysmash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: salt_burn_porn, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-02
Updated: 2010-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmash/pseuds/keysmash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room's dark, just like it always is when they do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn on the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place vaguely mid-s6: contains spoilers for 601, but none after that. No other warnings. Written for salt_burn_porn, for who_favor_fire's prompt _When the music's over, turn out the lights._ Title from Shel Silverstein.

Sam crowded close behind Dean while he unlocked the door to their room. He wasn't doing anything, not really, but he had one hand on each of Dean's hips, and his breath came warm and fast on the back of Dean's neck. It'd probably be obvious, to anyone who was watching, what they were going to do, when they got inside. Dean's cock jerked just thinking about it, and he groaned quietly when the key stopped sticking in the lock and turned over, letting the two of them finally tumble inside.

Sam kicked the door closed behind them and starting unbuttoning Dean's shirt without looking, instead glancing over his shoulder to check the salt lines. Dean leaned to look as well, and although it was dark in the room, he could tell the salt was still straight and thick. He closed his eyes and started sucking on Sam's neck instead. Sam's pulse raced against his lips, and Dean could feel the air passing through Sam's throat as he panted, open-mouthed. He hummed against Sam and started working on his pants. Sam fumbled at Dean's hair, trying to find a good grip. He never got a firm hold, but Dean turned towards his face anyway, and they were kissing by the time he wrapped his fingers around Sam's cock.

Sam twitched in his hand, hardening further as Dean stroked him, and it was a good thing the kiss had started out sloppy, because Dean was too overloaded to keep up with everything. He could barely smear Sam's precome over the head of his dick, and tug at his clothes with his free hand, and try to back them towards the bed, all at once without falling over in the unfamiliar room. They'd checked in that evening, only dropped their stuff off before heading out to work, and he couldn't really remember which wall the beds were against.

He thought they were to his left, though, and he stopped when they were almost there. His dick was straining against the zipper of his jeans, and he couldn't go any longer without grinding against Sam. He shifted to the side a little, squeezing Sam's cock in time with the rolling thrusts he made against Sam's hip, and Sam pretty much growled into his mouth. He rucked Dean's tee shirt up to his armpits and then pushed his hands up his bare chest, stopping to squeeze at his nipples.

"God," Dean said, thrusting unsteadily for a moment, and Sam laughed into his mouth.

"Bed," he said. Dean nodded, sucking at his lips, and stepped backwards, pulling Sam with him by the dick.

He took two steps before stumbling over the end of the bed, which was three feet closer than he'd been expecting. With Sam's momentum as well as his own, Dean almost fell on his ass, almost took Sam with him.

They caught themselves, clutching at each other, and Dean panted into Sam's mouth for a moment before pulling away and taking a more careful step back, alone.

"C'mon," he said. "Strip. I'll meet you there."

Sam snorted, but he started undressing, too, taking his clothes off in the dark just like Dean.

In the dark, the only way they'd ever done it.

Dean had noticed it the week before, their fifth time, but he thought it was coincidence until the seventh time, when Sam actually got out of bed to turn off the light. Dean had nothing against fucking in the dark, mind — nothing against the time they'd gotten each other off in the back seat in an empty parking lot, or when Sam had crawled out of his bed and into Dean's just when Dean was starting to fall asleep, or right now, when there wasn't time to bother with the light switch after spending the entire drive to the motel waiting to get his hands on Sam. Those were all things he'd wanted. But they weren't the _only_ things he wanted.

Now, he saw Sam's body a two-inch strip of skin at a time, as Sam walked naked through the beam of light from the parking lot, shining through a gap in the blackout curtains. He crawled into bed, and Dean finished taking off his pants while Sam stretched out. Sam's breathing sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Dean thought about just getting into bed with him now, breathing in when Sam exhaled and touching him until he started moaning again.

Instead, he turned and walked the few feet to the bathroom. He flipped on the light and squinted at the harsh fluorescents — it wasn't gentle light, or flattering, and even if Sam didn't make him turn it right back off, neither of them would look as awesome as they could. But it was worth a shot, Dean thought. He found his other reason for the detour right behind the faucet, where he'd hoped it would be, and picked it up.

"Lookit, Sammy," he said, coming back out and tossing the bottle of motel lotion towards the bed. Sam sat up on his elbows. He picked up the bottle and raised his eyebrows at Dean, but Dean was concentrating on the fall of light over Sam's side, highlighting the way his abs shifted as he moved, and the way the head of his cock shone, slick and deep red, where it bobbed against his belly.

"Free toiletries, shocker." Sam dropped it to the coverlet and rolled onto his side as Dean joined him on the bed. He siddled up close to Sam, pressing their bellies and their dicks together, and fished the bottle out from between them. Sam slid one hand around Dean's waist and starting thrusting against him immediately, so that Dean started to second-guess himself. Maybe it _had_ been a coincidence; maybe he'd spent so much time dealing with Sam's laundry list of issues recently that he'd started finding patterns where none existed.

"It'll be fun," Dean said. He pressed the bottle to Sam's chest, over his heart, and then shifted his hand so he could thumb at Sam's nipple. Sam sighed and leaned into kiss him, and Dean smiled, letting Sam suck on his tongue.

They stayed there for a while, rubbing against each other while Dean waited for Sam's body heat to warm the lotion up some, but when he put the bottle aside to reach for Sam's cock, he pulled away a little. Dean opened his eyes and Sam met his gaze, but he'd been looking at something over Dean's shoulder first: the open bathroom door.

"Dean," he said, and then looked away, frowning a little. His brow crinkled up, as well as the faint network of lines around his eyes. His lips were already red, from Dean chewing on them, but his cheeks were flushed, too. He gripped harder at Dean's waist, clutching for a moment, and Dean frowned as well, even while his dick jumped. He didn't really know how to have this conversation — just the fact that it apparently _needed_ a conversation made it more than Dean wanted to deal with, but it'd never been an issue before. He hadn't pushed it any of the times he'd hooked up, because pushing too far was a good way to find yourself alone in bed, and he sure as hell hadn't needed to ask Lisa about something like sex with the freaking lights on. That was some minor shit, and she'd never balked at —

Dean shook his head, reminding himself not to do that. After he moved in, she'd had to ask him not to compare life with her to life with Sam, because they were two different things. Dean figured the same went both ways.

"We don't have to," he tried. Sam looked back at him, eyes wide, and Dean shrugged. He picked up the bottle again, then held Sam's gaze for a moment before glancing towards the ceiling, back towards the bathroom. He didn't turn around and look at it, he didn't point that direction, and he certainly didn't mention it out loud, but when he looked back at Sam, Sam's eyes were squeezed shut. "Just think you might like it, is all." He rolled his hips against Sam's, nudging their cocks together again, and Sam's twitched against his.

Sam's face didn't change for a while, just staying pinched and unhappy. Dean was about to get up and just turn the light back off — it'd be good someday, but it wasn't worth it, like this — when Sam opened his eyes and nodded once. "Alright."

"Alright," Dean repeated. He kissed Sam again, trying to draw Sam's tongue into his mouth again, and Sam watched him the entire time. His face was blurry, half in shadow from where Dean's head blocked the light, and Dean figured he looked about the same to Sam. Sam was still looking when Dean closed his eyes, sliding his hand down between them again. Sam's cock was wet against his, where they'd both been leaking against each other, and Dean's fingers slipped easily over him as he jerked him, slow and steady, for a while.

Sam thrust into his hand without hesitation, and when he started kissing Dean back, Dean rolled them, so Sam lay with his head on the pillow, and Dean was propped on top of him. He'd lost track of the lotion and he patted the bed for it a few times before having to let go of Sam's mouth to look.

The bottle was easy enough to find, but Sam was spread out over the bed, flushed pink down to his nipples. He'd started to sweat, so his skin glistened around his hairline, and in the hollow of his throat. His chest wasn't heaving, not really, but Dean could see him expand with every breath he took. Sam hadn't been completely dressed the entire time Dean had been back on the road or anything — he'd come out of the bathroom in just a towel after his showers, and did his complicated PT routine in as little clothing as he could manage most days — but this was the first time Dean had seen him like this, laid out in bed, and hard, breathing fast, because of what Dean had done to him. Sam's eyes were closed, and Dean ducked his own head while he dealt with the bottle.

He rubbed the first dollop of lotion between his hands, trying to warm it further, and then wrapped a hand around Sam's dick. His own body shielded Sam's crotch from the light, but it wasn't so dark that Dean couldn't see, as he closed his fingers around the thick base of Sam's cock and stroked up to his head, spreading the creamy lotion as he went. Sam was red under his fingers, thick and almost throbbing in Dean's grip, and he thrust up slowly when Dean smeared lotion on his crown and then changed direction, bringing his hand back down Sam's dick. Dean stroked him again, trying to keep the pressure constant while he moved his hand slowly. He wanted to drag it out, but he couldn't resist rubbing his own cock with his other hand, pressing the lotion into his own skin.

Dean could see Sam's upper thighs tense as he moved, and the slight quiver in his abs at the peak of each thrust. His chest rose and fell faster with every stroke, and his nipples were flushed the same shade of pink as his lips. Dean sped his hand a little when Sam started trying to go faster, but he couldn't look away from Sam, watching him form fists and then relax his hands, in no rhythm Dean could guess.

Sam opened his mouth, starting to pant again, and Dean's own lips fell open as well. He changed position as smoothly as he could, letting go of his own cock in order to keep touching Sam's as he leaned forward. He propped himself up over Sam's face again, just where he'd been before, and watched Sam's mouth: his wet lips, the soft flash of tongue visible between his teeth, and behind that, the damp, dark space that led into Sam's body. Dean ducked to kiss him. He worked Sam's dick faster, moving easily through the coat of lotion, and he closed his eyes, needing to get rid of the distractions, as he tried to get the rhythm just right.

Sam tensed below him, his legs and belly tightening up. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, noisy in Dean's ear, and he grabbed at Dean again, clinging to his sides, as he came, dick jerking and spurting in Dean's fist. Dean got jizzed on some, bent over Sam the way he was, but he wrung most of Sam's orgasm onto his hand and Sam's own belly. He definitely didn't get to see it; apparently none of his fantasies his about seeing Sam get come-splattered would be coming true tonight. But when he opened his eyes and found Sam staring back at him, watching him steadily through blown-wide eyes, Dean didn't pull away. He stayed right where he was.

He stayed there until Sam's breathing steadied out a little, anyway, and then pushed himself more upright. Their lower bodies were still pressed together, but he picked his chest off of Sam's, pulled his mouth away from Sam's, and raised an eyebrow at him. Sam pushed himself up a little and kissed Dean again, biting at his lip, and then fell back onto the pillow, letting Dean look at him. Messed up hair, color high in his cheeks, and, when Dean glanced down, come streaked in lines across his belly. Dean smirked at him and started to swing himself back to the bed, but Sam caught him by the hips and held him in place.

"You're still hard," he said, and wrapped one hand around Dean's cock. There was still enough lotion that Sam's fingers slid easily over him, and he started pulling hard and fast, not teasing.

"Great staying power, I know," Dean said. He stared down at Sam's hand, at the fingers that were long enough to overlap by more than one knuckle even at the base of Dean's dick, for as long as he could, but it wasn't long before he had to lower himself to his hands again, holding himself up as he started thrusting to meet Sam's rhythm. "Thought it ran in the family, but I guess not."

"Talk a big game." Sam sounded almost amused, and Dean would have taken offense at that, except that Sam wormed his other hand between them somehow and cupped his balls, rolling and tugging, and it was over at that. He dropped his face to Sam's neck as he came, on the side of his body furthest from the bathroom. It was dark here, safe, and he closed his eyes as he kept coming, hiding his face in Sam as his body jerked and seized, uncontrollable.

It ended eventually, aftershocks and all, and Dean stopped trying to stay up on his knees. He dropped his full weight onto Sam, and after Sam pulled his hands free, he wrapped his arms around Dean. Dean thought he might have wiped his hands on Dean's back, but he'd make a stink about that later.

He drifted for as long as he could before Sam started to grumble, something about going numb.

"I've known tiny little women that could take being laid on better than you can," Dean groused back, as he pushed himself up and off of Sam. Sam kicked at him, connecting with Dean's shin even though he had one arm thrown over his eyes. He was grinning, and Dean made sure to slap a cold wash rag down on his belly, after cleaning himself up in the shower.

Sam got out of bed eventually, too, and stumbled into the bathroom long enough to brush his teeth. Dean watched the muscles in Sam's arm work as he moved the toothbrush for a moment, but he made sure to look away before Sam glanced over. He rolled his eyes as he spat, and when he was done at the sink, went back into the room while Dean brushed.

He was waiting on the clean bed, the one closest to the window, when Dean finished. He took one last look around the room before he turned out the bathroom light, actually remembering where things were this time, and walked all the way across the room. He tugged the blinds the rest of the way closed, getting rid of the last slender bit of light, and then walked carefully to the bed. He nudged Sam in the shoulder, and Sam sighed dramatically, but scooted over and let Dean in. He didn't roll to face him, and Dean curled around his back, between Sam and the window as they fell asleep.


End file.
